


I don't want any of your coffee.

by jellytheotter



Series: The Coffee Chronicles [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: ADMU, Coffee, Poetry, ateneo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellytheotter/pseuds/jellytheotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A perspective on coffee, set in the Ateneo De Manila University Philippine's general area.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't want any of your coffee.

your cup of coffee  
comes in many shapes and sizes  
in many blends and brews  
in many tastes and aromas

you wake up everyday  
at 7 in the morning  
maybe earlier, maybe later  
do you really care?

so you head off to school  
“kuya I’ll go to school na”  
but kuya passes the long way  
the way you pass every morning

your car parks and you tell yaya to order (you never bother to get out of the car)  
one tall asian dolce latte  
with less ice and skim milk  
brown sugar and a shot of mint  
please

It’s different every morning  
Depends on your mood I guess…  
For me it’s the same.  
A run through.

I wake up at 6, and do my rituals. Then;  
I go to the kitchen.  
I boil water.  
I wait.

I get my thermos and a teaspoon to measure things out.  
First, the freeze-dried instant coffee: 2 teaspoons.  
Second, the “coffee mate” creamer: 3 teaspoons.  
Lastly, the sugar, just sugar: 2 and half teaspoons.

So I head off to school.  
“Kuya, sa Shakey’s po.”  
And kuya passes the shortest way.  
The way other kuyas pass every morning.

I give kuya a 20 and tell him "salamat po." (I never bother to get my change.)  
Across the bridge.  
Past the field.  
Through the forest.  
And I see it.

The white paper.  
The little white paper that once sheathed your green straw.  
The forgotten white paper that is now on the soiled ground.  
The dangerous white paper that I pick up every morning.

I sit next to you in class.  
You say “good morning.”  
I say “good morning.”  
You say “do you want some?”

I say no.  
I don’t want any of your coffee.


End file.
